


Two Stars by babs

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a friend just needs to be there for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Stars by babs

_"Two stars, poised on the peak of midnight Will reach their zenith;  
stillness will be deep; There will be stars over the place forever,  
There will be stars forever, while we sleep."  
-Sara Teasdale_

  
"Sir?"

Jack turned at the sound of Carter's voice. She was hurrying down the hall towards him as if she was afraid he'd be disappearing into the elevators and she'd never see him again. "Carter?" He made a point of looking at his watch.

"It's Daniel," she said, looking up at him. He waited when she said nothing more than that one cryptic comment, although his mind raced at thoughts of exactly what that comment might mean.

"I'm worried about him, sir. Sha're..." Carter stared at the floor. "Don't you think Daniel is a little too...?" She looked up, gesturing in the air. "I don't think he's handling it very well, sir," she finished, her chin thrust up as if daring him to disagree.

"There's not a right way to grieve, Carter," Jack said, aware that his voice sounded gruff, memories of people telling *him* how to grieve his son's death filling his head. But Carter was looking as if he'd just kicked a puppy. "Look, SG1 is a team. We're going to get him through this," he said playing team commander to the hilt. He swiped his card and the elevator doors opened. He stepped in, relieved that Carter didn't follow. He looked at his watch again. Past midnight and he'd planned on going to Daniel's apartment. Maybe there wasn't a right way to grieve, but it sure as hell helped when a friend was there to see you through.

* * *

He had plenty of time to reflect on the past month as he drove to Daniel's apartment--from the moment he'd heard the sound of Teal'c's staff weapon to the moment of seeing Daniel lying on the floor of the tent, turned toward his dead wife, to a memory of his friend wrapped in his Abydonian robes speaking in a soft clear voice, to Daniel's decision to work himself into a stupor so he no longer needed to think about lost dreams or the end of hope. Jack grimaced as a headache blossomed sending tendrils of pain down his neck and into his shoulders.

He had nothing to offer Daniel, nothing but his friendship. The memory of his promise to Daniel three years ago echoed in his mind as it had ever since Sha're's death. He'd broken his promise to Sara--to protect her and their son, the marriage vows that had said he'd be with his wife in sorrow and in joy. It didn't matter that Sara had filed for the divorce. It had been his failure to communicate with her, his decision to shut himself off from her, that had been the catalyst.

He'd broken his promise to Charlie--that promise he'd made when he'd held the eight pounds, three ounces of the miracle that was his son, the promise to keep him safe, to never let him come to harm. Oh yeah, Jack O'Neill had screwed that one up big time.

Now, he'd broken his promise to Daniel--that they would get Sha're back. And now Jack was afraid; afraid that he was going to lose yet another member of his family. He didn't care about how valuable Daniel Jackson was to the SGC. What mattered to Jack was how valuable Daniel was to him. Who would have every thought such an unlikely friendship would have ever existed?

Jack pulled into the parking garage at Daniel's apartment building waving to the guard on duty. He parked his truck next to Daniel's car, taking a moment to bow his head against his steering wheel. Daniel had left the SGC earlier that evening but only after General Hammond, backed by Doc Fraiser, had made it an order. And even Jack had to admit, Daniel wasn't looking himself the past weeks. Sure, Daniel went on the missions scheduled for SG1, did his job, and searched for a whisper of a dream--a planet called Kheb and his last connection to his dead wife. He said he was working through things, he was all right, he was fine, and Jack didn't believe a word of it.

Riding the elevator up to Daniel's apartment, Jack's hand curled around the key Daniel had given him last year. He stood in front of his friend's apartment door all too soon. He hesitated, unsure of whether to knock or not. If Daniel was sleeping, Jack certainly didn't want to wake him, remembering the insomnia after Charlie died, when it seemed a good night's sleep would never exist again. He turned the key and entered the apartment, not surprised to find Daniel awake. There was however, no response to his entrance, Daniel standing in front of his piano, unmoving, but every line of his body screaming exhaustion and a grief too much to bear alone.

"Daniel?" Jack walked to his friend's side, unwilling to let Daniel push him away. Daniel's fingers rested on the piano keys and Jack noticed the sheet music placed on the stand.

"Sha're," there was the merest catch in Daniel's voice as he said his dead wife's name and he took a deep breath before speaking again. "Sha're loved music. She would have been fascinated by a piano. They didn't have pianos on Abydos." The words were so earnest, Daniel sounding so lost.

Jack could have said something flippant about pianos not growing on trees, but the raw pain, the continuing stunned quality of Daniel's voice, brought back the memory of those awful first days after Charlie's death. He settled for a 'yeah' and placing his hand on the bowed neck.

"She would have been fascinated by everything." Daniel stepped away from Jack's touch and wandered to his over-flowing bookshelves. He stood staring at them, running his fingers over them. "She loved my books. The books I took on our mission. I taught her English with them, and the alphabet, and how to read. We used to sit..." he stumbled over the words, "sit by the fire at night and I would read to her. Once she learned how to read, we'd take turns."

Jack smiled at the image in his head, memories of stretching out on Charlie's bed, his son curled up next to him, reading the books Charlie loved so much. When Charlie learned to read, he'd missed those quiet times they'd shared, but when his son had been sick Jack was still allowed to read to him. Precious memories, different than Daniel's, but tinged with the same bittersweetness.

Daniel turned back to face Jack and pushed up his glasses before looking at him. "I'm okay, Jack. It's just..." another one of those deep breaths, "...taking some time, you know. I realize my work hasn't been up to its usual standards. I know I took too long with that translation on P3R-112. It won't happen again."

Recognizing the chatter for what it was, Jack held up a hand. He knew the signs. When things veered towards Daniel's feelings, Daniel's pain, the younger man had a habit of changing the subject away from himself, and much as Jack wanted to push Daniel to speak of his grief, he knew he must tread softly. "I'm sorry Sha're died, Daniel. Sorry we couldn't save her."

Hel turned shocked blue eyes on Jack, surprised maybe that his dead wife's name was even mentioned. "There was nothing you could have done," Daniel finally said after a long moment of silence. "Nothing."

"Maybe, but I'm still sorry she died." Jack repeated his apology. "Sha're..." He was interrupted by Daniel holding up his hand.

"You hungry, Jack?" Daniel moved towards his kitchen area. "I can make some coffee. I probably have some stuff for sandwiches or I can throw a frozen pizza in the oven."

"Coffee sounds good." Jack followed his friend. He might like beer better but he knew he'd need all of his faculties clear dealing with Daniel. He looked at his watch again, wondering how long Daniel had gone without sleep. He was sure insomnia was becoming a habit with Daniel. He thought back to the missions since Sha're's death, all those nights when Daniel stayed up for an extra watch with whoever had drawn second or third shift. The deepest part of night always brought back loss, Jack knew.

He leaned against Daniel's refrigerator, watching his friend pull a canister closer and open it, giving a gentle smile as he heard Daniel's instinctive inhalation as the aroma of freshly ground coffee hit the air.

"How about if I make us some sandwiches?" Jack offered when he saw Daniel reach for the coffee pot with a shaky hand. He wasn't hungry, but Daniel needed to eat. The man's blood sugar was probably plummeting right about now.

Daniel grunted, which Jack figured was about the best reply he could hope for. He opened the fridge and began pulling out cold cuts and some individually wrapped cheese slices, giving surreptitious sniffs to the food. With their schedules cleaning out the refrigerator after each mission was par for the course. But everything smelled edible. Jack placed the food on the table along with a jar of mustard and reached for the bread on Daniel's counter when he realized that the faucet had been running for a long time, certainly longer than it took to fill up a coffee pot.

"Daniel?"

"Running water," Daniel said. "Funny how we take something like running water for granted isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess we do." Jack tossed the bread next to the cold cuts on the table. He held his hands out to his sides, then jammed them into his pockets, unsure of what to do, what to say.

"Sha..."

Jack heard the choked back sob, saw Daniel's shoulders begin to shake, and knew only one thing. The grief held at bay for nearly a month was coming to the surface and Daniel needed his best friend by his side to see him through.

"Daniel." Jack touched the other man's shoulder, not surprised when it was shrugged off. It didn't matter; Daniel wasn't going to go through this alone. He'd made the mistake in his own life. He wasn't going to watch Daniel go down the same self destructive path of pushing those who could help him away.

The coffee pot slipped from Daniel's hands, shattering in the sink.

"Oh God," the words could barely be heard over the running water, spoken in a whisper, almost a prayer. "Oh God."

Jack reached out and shut off the water when Daniel appeared incapable of thought, Daniel gripping the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Let it go, Daniel," Jack said. His friend's face was pale and his breath came in little gasps as he tried to hold in the grief that was threatening to make him lose control.

"I loved her. I *loved* her. I *loved* her." Daniel looked at Jack, confusion, anger, loss, so many emotions playing across his face. "Why?" his voice rose. "Why, Jack? Why her? Why not me?" Daniel was leaning into Jack's space and Jack was prepared for anything, even the chance that Daniel might strike out in anger. But the anger was short-lived and Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper. "Why?" He sounded like a lost child and the tears Daniel had managed to hold at bay since Sha're's death began to fall. Jack reached out a steadying hand as Daniel pushed away from the sink, grunting with effort as he guided them both to the floor when Daniel's legs gave way. He placed his arm over Daniel's shoulders, a reminder to his grieving friend that someone would be with him as he mourned.

* * *

His shirt was damp, his ass was numb, and his back ached, but Jack didn't move from his position on Daniel's kitchen floor. Jack shifted slightly, his left arm was asleep and the pins and needles tingling feeling was starting to become a major irritant.

"Huh?" Daniel started, lifting his head from Jack's shoulder and blinking in the harsh fluorescent light. "Jack?"

"The one and only." Jack shook his arm, curling his hand into a fist and then releasing it to stretch his fingers. He looked at Daniel who was rubbing his face with his hands and nearly knocking off his glasses in the process.

"Um, sorry," Daniel muttered, staring at the floor. "You must think I'm..."

"I think you're a widower, Daniel; a man who lost his wife and his dreams." Jack motioned for Daniel to stand and then reached up to the sink to pull himself up. He couldn't help the groan that accompanied the movement as his knees protested.

Daniel was looking at the shattered remains of his coffee pot and when he reached in the sink to start pulling out the pieces, Jack grabbed his wrist. "I'll get it. You're still half asleep and I so don't want to take you to the infirmary at this hour to get a zillion stitches in your hand."

It was a testament to how tired Daniel really was, because there was no argument, no protest, just a simple nod before he turned and walked out of the kitchen. Jack busied himself, cleaning up the broken glass, throwing the cold cuts and cheese into the trash can. When morning came, he was taking Daniel out somewhere for the biggest breakfast he could find and he was going to make sure his friend ate every bite. Bracing his arms against the counter, Jack hung his head and closed his eyes for a moment. He glanced at the clock on Daniel's microwave, Three thirty three. Hoping Daniel had managed to find his way to bed, Jack gave the counter a swipe with a damp sponge and then left the room, figuring he could bunk down on Daniel's sofa or love seat for a few hours sleep.

Daniel was lying on his side on the sofa, his legs pulled up slightly and half-falling off the cushions. His glasses had been tossed on the coffee table and he was blinking slowly.

"Here." Jack pulled a patterned throw off the back of the sofa and tossed it over Daniel's legs. When Daniel made no move to adjust it, he spoke softly, "C'mon. Cover up. You're shivering." At Jack's words, Daniel obeyed, pulling the cover up to his chin and closing his eyes. Knowing his friend wouldn't appreciate the gesture at the moment, Jack made a mental note to check Daniel's temperature once he fell back asleep. Jack suspected Daniel was just a little bit shocky.

"Thank you," Daniel said as Jack settled on the love seat. Jack saw him make a meager effort to push his body up but Daniel's muscles had other ideas. "You said her name. No one wants to talk about her or say her..." there was a long pause and Jack saw Daniel wipe at his eyes before continuing, "...name. Like if no one talks about her, it won't hurt."

"And it always does," Jack finished for him. There were times he still ran into an acquaintance who knew of his son's death, his subsequent divorce, and they skirted the issue by never mentioning Charile as if by not saying his name Jack wouldn't miss him anymore. He regretted that he'd done the same to Daniel, thinking the younger man would come to them on his own to speak of his grief.

"Yes," Daniel said and then was silent. Jack thought that Daniel might have fallen asleep again. Surely his friend had to be exhausted from the onslaught of emotion. Leaning forward, Jack glanced at him, getting up to grab a box of tissues and place them within reach when he saw the tears trickling down Daniel's cheeks. He patted Daniel's shoulder and then walked back to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed a bottle of water and rummaged in one of the cabinets for a bottle of aspirin.

He sat on the coffee table, nudging Daniel's hand with the water bottle. Daniel turned onto his back and scooted up on the cushions, taking a swig from the bottle and then rested the cool container against his forehead.

"Here." Jack turned over Daniel's palm and dumped two aspirin into it. When Daniel regarded the pills with suspicion, Jack shook his head. "You're beat. You need to sleep some more, and you have a headache. Go on. They'll help."

Daniel stared at Jack a long moment and then popped the pills in his mouth and drank almost half the water. He started to put the bottle on the floor but Jack stopped him.

"Drink it all. You're probably a little dehydrated. It'll help the headache too." He didn't expect Daniel to speak, knowing that for the moment, giving orders and thinking for Daniel was probably the best course of action.

He finished the water and held out the bottle for Jack, closing his eyes and sliding back down onto the cushions. Jack sat for a long while, watching as Daniel slept. Jack moved over to the love seat when he was sure Daniel was sound asleep and sighed as he put his feet on the coffee table and rested his head on the back of the cushions. It didn't take long until he joined his friend in slumber.

* * *

It was the silence that woke him. Over the past three years, Jack had grown accustomed to the pattern of Daniel's breathing while he slept. When the archaeologist was exhausted, as he'd been after his release of grief, and finally slept, Daniel had a habit of letting out a huff of air after every two or three breaths. It was the absence of that sound, combined with years of Special Ops training, that had Jack up and out of the love seat and fully awake within seconds, although he regretted the motion as soon as he was standing. Sleeping with his legs stretched onto Daniel's coffee table and his head thrown back on the cushions had been not such a great idea.

The throw was halfway on the floor and Jack noticed the bottle of water was empty. Early morning light was seeping in the windows and a light breeze from the direction of the doors to Daniel's balcony gave him a good idea where his friend was.

"Hey Jack," Daniel said without turning as Jack joined him on the small balcony. His voice was hoarse and weary, the aftermath of the release of pain. Jack studied Daniel's profile, able to see the slight puffiness at Daniel's eyes, a crease on Daniel's cheek where he'd pressed it into the sofa cushions. He was holding a small book, Jack noticed, a slim volume that would fit in a pocket.

Daniel tilted his head back looking at the dawn sky. "'There will be stars over the place forever,'" he whispered. He held up the book. "Poetry. This was my mom's. I had it with me on... Abydos," Daniel faltered over the name and then continued. "Sha're loved to hear it." He tapped the book on his palm before turning to face Jack. "Tell me, Jack."

Jack gave a sad smile, wishing he had a magic wand to take away the pain, knowing he couldn't. "It won't always be this raw, Daniel. I can't tell you more than that. First you work on minute to minute. Then you work up to hour by hour. One day at a time. Step by step."

"I've been telling myself that. You know, all that kind of mumbo jumbo." Giving a small laugh, Daniel turned to look out over the park across the way. "It doesn't make it easier."

"Nope," Jack agreed, because Daniel was right of course. They stood in silence watching the sun rise and Jack wondered what Sha're would have thought of Earth--if Daniel would have brought her here or if he would have returned to Abydos and had lots of fat, dark-haired, blue-eyed babies.

Daniel shivered and Jack slipped back to the present and reality. "Shower, shave, clean clothes, then we'll go somewhere for breakfast." He gave the orders to Daniel, knowing the fragile truce Daniel had with his own emotions for the moment. It helped when someone else reminded you of the ordinary things you needed to do. Daniel nodded and turned to go in the apartment.

"Jack?" He stopped with one foot on the threshold, squinting at Jack with red-rimmed eyes. He brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I...you know."

"I know, Daniel," Jack said and made a shooing motion. He waited until Daniel was out of sight and then let out a huge sigh. He looked up at the sky, wishing it was night where he felt more comfortable.

"I'm sorry, Sha're," he said to the stars, knowing they were there even if hidden from view. An image of Sha're and Daniel at the feast when he'd returned to Abydos filled his mind, only to be replaced with one of Charlie swinging on the swing set Jack had put together for his fourth birthday, and Jack smiled as he entered the apartment. Maybe this was his chance to make things right for all the screw ups that had gone before. He hoped so. He really hoped so.

  



End file.
